


A Search for the Hart

by noimalive



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, M/M, no gansey will not speak like a knight im too tired for that, yes i am sorry, yes the title is a bad pun, yes this is a knight before christmas au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noimalive/pseuds/noimalive
Summary: Sir Richard Campbell Gansey III is unfulfilled with his life as a knight in the court of King Glendower. Then, during the annual St. Mark’s Eve hunt, he spares the life of the legendary golden stag and a mysterious stranger sends him to the future. There, he meets Blue Sargent, in the midst of Henrietta’s St. Mark’s Eve celebrations, who’s not quite sure what to do with a guy claiming to be a knight. Especially when he insinuates that she’s a prostitute.In summary:broke: Christmastime romancewoke: St. Mark’s Eve romance!!!
Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 15
Kudos: 23





	1. The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> i made a joke about a knight before christmas au and here we are...
> 
> i had to make up a bunch of stuff about st. mark's eve but it made more sense than a christmas setting

A blast from a horn told Sir Richard Campbell Gansey III the hunt was on. He mounted his horse, a motion made fluid by years of practice. Each knight trotted past King Glendower before taking position. Gansey acknowledged the king with a bow of the head. 

“A good St. Mark’s Eve to all! And may the best knight win!” King Glendower shouted to the group, who now raced into the forest.

Gansey had no particular inclination toward hunting, finding it a bit distasteful and barbaric, if he was being honest. But it was tradition to hold a hunt prior to a holiday, and there was always an important reward for whomever won the particular competition. Sometimes the challenge was just catching the first boar or the largest number of hares, but the task and reward on St. Mark’s Eve was special. It was said that the knight who captured the golden stag would be granted the ability to see spirits of the future-dead, just as the witches and seers could. Gansey had never heard of anyone succeeding, but respecting the king meant participation.

He slowed his horse once they had ridden for a few minutes. Without the other knights in sight, Gansey could take a leisurely ride and not worry about the hunt. Sharp barking sounded in the distance, indicating another knight had begun a chase. Gansey turned his horse in the opposite direction. He was content to remain separate from the fierce competition that was about to commence.

Gansey was looking into the distance when he saw it. A flicker of gold between the trees. Surely it was just the setting sun? Out of curiosity, he nudged at the reins, slowly approaching it. Immediately, the golden form disappeared, and Gansey caught sight of burnished legs, tail, and ears as the creature raced through the trees. It wasn’t hard to follow the hoofprints left in the forest floor, muddy from the rains of early spring. Gansey urged on his horse to run faster through the underbrush between the towering trees. The ground sloped more and more; it was clear they were headed to the waterfront.

Finally, they reached the low point of the valley. Gansey’s horse walked carefully through the shallow water until the target was in sight. The stag, exhausted, knelt its elegant head in the stream to drink. Silently, Gansey notched an arrow. Then, the stag turned, and its metallic eyes met his. It studied him intently. The water reflected its fur, so it seemed like molten gold flowed through the river. Something about the peace and, frankly, magic of it all brought Gansey to lower his bow. It was the find of a lifetime, and there was no doubt the king would reward him with more than the vision from the legends, but none of that was worth aiming the bow for. He nodded at the creature, and it seemed to bow its head in return before disappearing into the thick forest.

Gansey stood in the spot, frozen in awe, for a while. The sinking sun reminded him that it would soon be dark, and the hunt would end. No one really wanted to be in the woods at night on St. Mark’s Eve. It was time to return. 

Gansey directed his horse on the path he had taken earlier. When he checked the skies again, the sun had nearly fallen below the horizon. Surely, it had not been so long? It almost felt like time was slipping. 

The dark, dense forest gave way to a glimmer of light. Gansey couldn’t remember a clearing here. Circling the area to orient himself, he saw a dark red puddle. A chill ran down his spine. It was probably just some creature another knight had killed here. Sword drawn, Gansey approached. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He felt quite foolish when there was no response and turned to leave. 

“Wait!” A voice called. A young man, maybe a year or two younger than Gansey, materialized into the clearing. He hadn’t really materialized, of course, just come from the darkness through the trees. A large cut was bleeding profusely on his right arm, and he grasped it tightly with his left. The blood stained his clothes, which were already torn and filthy. “I have been lost in the forest. Please, help me.” 

Gansey dismounted. Knights always carried equipment to tend to wounds- hunts were surprisingly dangerous. “May I see your arm?”

The young man offered his wounded arm. Gansey pushed back his filthy sleeve. It was bad, but not the worst he had seen. He splashed a bit of water from his flask on the wound, causing the man to hiss in pain. “I apologize,” Gansey said quickly. “I must clean it.” 

“I understand,” the man said, but his face was still tense. 

“What are you called?” Gansey asked, hoping to distract him with conversation.

“Noah. Noah Czerny.” 

“What is your title?”

“I have no title. That’s all there is.” Noah smiled, as if it was a private joke.

Judging by his clothes, Gansey had assumed the man was likely of a lower class and the lack of title confirmed it. What a peasant was doing in the forest during a hunt, Gansey had no idea. It was risky to be on the ground when a dozen knights could mistake you for game. “Did a boar get you?” He had finished cleaning and moved onto wrapping the cut. There were no bandages, so Gansey had torn a segment from his own sleeve.

“A boar?” Noah seemed confused for a moment. “Oh yes, it was a boar. Beautiful tusks, but rather sharp.”

Gansey had never thought of it that way, but it was true. There was a beauty to it. “I know many knights who have lost their lives to those tusks. You are lucky to have escaped with just a surface wound.”

Noah hummed in agreement. Gansey worked in silence for a moment, then the stranger said, “What are you called?” 

“Gansey.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, Sir Richard Gansey, I suppose. But I prefer Gansey.”

“That’s all there is,” Noah replied, mirroring his own words. 

When Gansey finished, the sun had fully disappeared. He really needed to leave the forest. “You may ride with me so you can return to the village. Your wound can be treated better once you arrive.” He offered Noah a hand to mount the horse, but he didn’t take it. Gansey hadn’t noticed the chill before- it must’ve come when the sun set. Something crackled in the air. 

Noah reached into a pouch and pulled out a little triangular stone with a hole in the center. He strung it on a cord and pressed it into Gansey’s open palm. “Gansey, you seek fulfillment in this world. But you will not find it in approval from your king. You must travel far from this land to complete a quest. Only then, will you understand your search for the heart.” 

“Pardon me? A hart?” Gansey was trying to be polite, but the winds had picked up. Perhaps he had misheard Noah, but it was possible he was speaking of the golden stag, a hart. 

Noah took the stone out of his palm and slipped the cord over Gansey’s neck. He could feel a strange heat emanate from it through his armor. It glowed gold, the same color as the stag. Everything went silent for a minute, the whistling of the wind gone. Then, he opened his eyes to a world full of light. In the distance, he heard Noah’s voice whisper, “Don’t throw it away.” 

—-

Blue Sargent was writing the dates of major oil spills on the board, when she realized the amount of chatter and fidgeting had increased significantly. It was the last ten minutes of class on a Friday, so that was to be expected. 

She turned from the board to face her class. Allison had her hand raised, but began talking before Blue could call on her. “Ok, as much as you know I’d love to hear you call out Exxon Mobil, I think there’s something else on all of our minds.”

Allison was one of Blue’s most passionate students, so she didn’t reprimand her for speaking out of turn. Just last week, Allison had nearly started a fight with another student who had said climate change was “questionable, at best.” Every fall, Blue began her class the same way. She explained that the course was called Environmental Science, but truly it was Environmental Studies (some parents in Virginia would object to anything with the word “justice” in the curriculum). The field was complicated and intersectional, and Blue would ask if they were up to the challenge. On the first day of class this year, Allison had asked if she was up to the challenge in the current political climate. Blue had simply said that there was a lot everyone had to learn, including herself. 

“What’s on your mind?” Blue replied, feigning ignorance. She knew this question was coming; every class heard the rumors about Ms. Sargent and every St. Mark’s Eve, they asked her. It was very likely that Henrietta, Virginia was the only place in the world that still celebrated St. Mark’s Eve. The festival started at sundown- only the memory remained, not the day’s spiritual origins. Small children dressed like ghosts and others wore period costumes, as if they were spirits of the past. It had evolved into a hybridization of a Renaissance Fair and Halloween. Blue expected most of her students would skip the festival in town in favor of a party. Her family celebrated, but in an entirely different way and location.

“Is it true? Are you really descended from Gwenllian and the others?” 

The reason Henrietta still celebrated St. Mark’s Eve was its unusual foundation. Hundreds of years ago, when Gwenllian, the illegitimate child of a Welsh king, was exiled, she crossed the sea and settled in Virginia. But, she did not come alone. Several other outcasts travelled with her. The legend was, they were all witches. 

“Well, I don’t believe Gwenllian had any children, but yes, I am related to one of the founders of Henrietta.” 

Blue spotted a few raised eyebrows around the room. Clearly, not everyone had thought the rumors were true. “So do you know the real story? Like, were they really witches?” another student asked.

There was muffled laughter. “Obviously they weren’t witches, Kate,” said someone in the back. 

“I’m not sure how this relates to the subject at hand. But yes, they were considered witches at the time. Anyway, back to 1989-“ 

“Wait!” Allison interrupted. “It relates because...geology!” Blue shook her head, but smiled. They weren’t getting work done at this point. “What do you mean ‘considered’”?

“As you all have probably learned, the word witch was used fairly liberally for anyone who was seen as a dissenter or disruptive. Gwenllian was convicted of treason at the time of her exile, and many of the others are believed to have been involved in suspicious activities. It was easier to brand them as devil worshippers than hold a fair trial for their actual charges.” The class looked a bit disappointed at this. “But, it is true that Gwenllian was known to engage in some occult activities.”

“Do you have, like, her diary? Are there any spells?”

“All we’ve got is the same as everyone- the traditions they’ve passed on, like St. Mark’s Eve.” The bell rang, and everyone scrambled to leave the classroom.

That wasn’t necessarily true, of course. They had a bit more than that. 300 Fox Way was entirely composed of the descendants of Henrietta’s founders. And, every St. Mark’s Eve, each resident of 300 Fox Way made their way to an isolated church before midnight. Its location was a secret, known only to them. There, the spectators could watch the procession of the future-dead through the churchyard.

Blue wasn’t certain if anyone could see the spirits there, or only her family- some sort of magical remnant left after so many generations. Her cousin, Orla, capitalized on the legends of the family. She ran a psychic hotline, where she claimed to funnel her ancestors’ powers to answer questions about callers’ sex life. Blue was content to share this little taste of magic with her family once a year. She had an apartment of her own now, and her third cousin twice removed had redecorated Blue’s childhood bedroom, but there was something powerful about the whole household gathered on the crumbling stone wall.

When she was young, Blue had wanted to go exploring beyond Henrietta. But everything had brought her back. It had been a challenge convincing the school board to add Environmental Science as a course, but Blue had carved out her own place here. 

After stopping by her apartment to eat a quick dinner and change her outfit, Blue headed to Henrietta’s Main Street. It was already packed with people and decorated with lights. Children in vaguely old clothing held conversations with actors in more accurate period attire, clad in suits of armor and petticoats. Something tugged on her coat.

A girl with devil horns, a long black dress, and a face full of glitter stared up at Blue with her great big blue eyes. “I made the horns myself,” Opal said proudly.

“She sure did,” a voice from behind Opal said. “We will never get the sparkles off the kitchen table.” 

Blue hugged Adam and Ronan, who were not dressed for the night’s theme. She had gone to high school with Adam, and they remained friends to the present day. Adam was an engineering professor at a nearby college, and Ronan maintained his family farm. They were very different people, but somehow they made it work- Blue had attended their wedding a few years ago. Adam and Ronan had adopted Opal two years ago. Blue had been carefully trying to influence her style and felt quite proud of this DIY costume.

“I’m an evil spirit!” Opal attempted a frightening grimace. “That’s why I’ve got horns.”

“Let’s go see if we can scare up some candy, little demon.” Ronan took her hand and led the group to a booth selling themed treats.

While Opal ordered, Adam muttered, “She’s in an occult phase lately. Is this typical for five year old girls?”

“Oh yeah. Forget princesses- every girl I knew growing up wanted to be a witch.”

“You also grew up with potentially real witches.”

“That’s fair. But trust me- totally normal phase. Next up is probably dinosaurs.” 

They spent the next few hours exploring the festival. Opal did indeed try to talk to some of the people in witch costumes about curses, but she also asked the ladies in dresses about how they managed their heavy skirts. After seeing nearly every attraction, Adam and Ronan headed home with Opal. Blue was about to leave, but caught sight of a gaggle of Fox Way children. Maura, Blue’s mother, was supervising and looked exhausted. 

“I can take them from here. Go home and rest up for tonight.”

“Thanks,” Maura said, grateful. “Jimi will pick them up at 10:30.”

Handling four kids was a lot more difficult than one, since they all wanted to do different things. It had started to drizzle, and the booths were shutting down. By 10:30, both Blue and the children were exhausted. Jimi was nearly half an hour late, blaming traffic. After herding everyone into Jimi’s car, Blue set off for her own. Wading through the crowds took more time than she thought it would, and she reached her car after 11. There wouldn’t be time to stop back at the apartment.

The rain picked up as Blue drove. The route to the church was composed of dirt roads and winding trails through the forest, forcing her to drive even more slowly. Soon, it was nearly impossible to see out the windshield. Rain wouldn’t stop the churchyard tradition, and Blue couldn’t be late.

She took a curve in the road too fast and felt a hard bump. Hoping she didn’t blow a tire or hit any animals, Blue hopped out of the car. It was a body- a body lay prone in front of car. She could barely see anything in the darkness. Holding her breath, Blue approached it. 

She heard a deep, inhuman groan, almost as if the sound was reverberating. Her heart quickened. 

“Hello? I’m really sorry...” 

A voice answered her. “I did not sustain any injuries!” it said cheerfully.

Blue knelt closer to the figure. When she saw it was a man in a chainmail, she couldn’t help it. She laughed.


	2. The Churchyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blue and gansey meet. lots of mysterious vibes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so. Apparently quarantine has influenced me to update this fic instead of my more legit ones. Idk either. And no I did not make an attempt to make Gansey speak period appropriate, but I’m not even sure he spoke English before, so let’s assume there was some language magic.

“You must be one of the actors! What are you doing out here?” 

Gansey was still quite dazed and couldn’t gather his thoughts to answer the strange question. It was a woman’s voice, with an unfamiliar accent. Her face was uncomfortably close to his, and the eerily bright lights on the wagon illuminated her light brown skin and dark eyes. 

“Are you alright?” she asked again. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, the road is so dark and it’s raining…” 

Gansey rose to his feet, a little unsteady. It was embarrassing for a knight to be caught in such a way, so he cleared his throat, hoping to retain some dignity. “I am quite fine, Milady. Allow me to introduce myself- Sir Richard Campbell Gansey III, knight in the court of the mighty King Glendower.”

The woman’s brow creased. “You know you don’t have to keep acting, right? The festival is over and we’re both adults.” 

“Acting?” Gansy couldn’t keep the confusion from his voice. “What do you mean? I am a knight, and I do serve King Glendower.” 

“Oh no,” the woman said, dismayed. “You must have a concussion...I was hoping you weren’t hurt… I remember I got first-aid training at the school, I definitely learned what to do with a concussion…”

While she spoke to herself, Gansey surveyed his surroundings. They were in a forest, but it was far less densely wooded- it was not the same forest as the Hunt. How could that be? Had Noah truly transported him beyond the court? He could still feel the weight of the triangular stone around his neck, like an anchor. A reminder. 

The wagon that had collided with him was unlike any other he had seen. It was metallic and a faded blue color. Its lanterns revealed the woman beside him. She was wearing the strangest attire- ripped red stockings, cropped pants, and a pointed hat. He couldn’t help himself from saying so aloud.

“Excuse me?” she said. “First of all, I was dressed for the festival. Second, I can wear whatever I want.” 

“And what are you doing outside so late at night?” Gansey continued. He recognized he was being quite rude, but he had the right to question the person who had crashed into him. “It’s not proper for a lady to be wandering in these parts…unless that is why you are dressed as such…”

The woman stood up from her crouched position. She was rather short, but it was somehow intimidating. “Excuse me.” she said once more. “I am not a prostitute!” 

“It’s a perfectly respectable profession, I was just curious...” 

“And I could leave you here on the side of the road, if I wanted. But I feel slightly bad about hitting you and I am going to hope this is your concussion talking.” Gansey was certain he wasn’t injured, but let her continue. “Now, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was in the forest with my horse, Pig. We were on the Saint Mark’s Eve Hunt for the golden stag, but when I saw it I let it go. Then, I found a young man injured, so I stopped to help him. He said something strange about my “search for the hart,” gave me this rock, then the next thing I saw were the lights on your wagon!” 

The woman was silent for a second. “Okay, clearly, you are not okay. Considering you definitely think you are a knight. This is probably an emergency, but as bad as I feel, I am also very very late. So you’re going to come with me for a quick detour, then we’ll go to the hospital.” 

Before Gansey could respond, she was already beckoning him into the wagon. It was completely enclosed with metal and glass. It made a loud noise and began to move forward, causing him to startle a little. “It’s called a car,” she said. “Since you probably don’t remember those. I don’t, like, morally believe in cars, but I can’t take my bike everywhere and there’s no public transportation in Henrietta.”

“Henrietta? Is that where we are?”

“Yes, Henrietta, Virgina.” Reading his confused face, she said, “In the United States. But I guess that wasn’t around in Glendower’s time.” 

“No, I suppose not…say, I didn’t ask your name. My apologies.”

“It’s Blue. Blue Sargent. And before you say something, know that I can also make fun of your name. Like, do I call you Sir Richard or…”

Gansey smiled to himself. It was true that he was going to remark on her name, but evidently he was in some sort of distant kingdom where customs were different. “You can just call me Gansey.” He had often said these words. He was proud of his position in the king’s court, but the titles and names felt superficial in company. They just distanced him from the people around him. Among his fellow knights they commonly used first names; however, outside of his peers, everyone referred to him by his full name, no matter how much he insisted. The king himself never addressed the knights informally. Gansey had often wondered what it would be like to speak with Glendower in private, for him to say “Gansey” with both respect and familiarity. Maybe if he had caught the stag, that scenario could have played out. Instead, he had been magicked away by some mysterious figure in the forest. 

“So when we get to the churchyard,” Blue was saying, “You have to stay in the car. It’s family only.”

“What precisely is at the churchyard?”

“It’s just a St. Mark’s Eve tradition we have. It's a secret.” 

Gansey’s stomach turned. A secret St. Mark’s Eve tradition? It was highly possible he was sitting next to a witch. He didn’t say anything, though- it was rather rude to accuse your companion of witchcraft. 

“No men are allowed, anyway.” Blue added. 

“Aren’t there men in your family?”

“Nope. Sargent women have only had girls, and the fathers never stick around for long. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Are you cursed?” Gansey asked in a hushed tone. 

Blue laughed. “Definitely not cursed. My family’s just special.” She stopped the car in a muddy clearing. In the distance, he glimpsed a crumbling wall lined with women, young and old. “It’s 11:58, so I have to run. I’ll be back soon. Stay here.” she instructed. He could see her sprinting to join her family. 

They were undeniably witches. So, didn’t he have the responsibility to watch them? Gansey wasn’t sure what he would do with proof. Frankly, he found magic rather interesting. It wasn’t explicitly condemned in Glendower’s court, although some older nobility and clergy still associated sorcery with evil. The word “witch” had been flung as an insult at Gwenillian, the daughter of the king, many times. Gansey had held several conversations with Gwenillian before, as she spoke to everyone in the kingdom as though they were equals. It was entirely possible that she engaged in the occult, based on those interactions, but it was likely her opponents were more concerned with her disregard for court niceties and expectations. Gansey quite liked her. 

It was past midnight, which was the time Blue had been anticipating. Yet, the women were still just perched on the wall. Perhaps it was a ritual that could be performed seated? Suddenly, he spotted a familiar-looking form in the distance, making its way across the churchyard. The pale hair, ripped garments- it was Noah! Blue had told him to remain in the car, but he had to know why Noah had sent him here. Gansey readied himself to confront him and pushed against the door. It didn’t open. The figure faded into the distance as he struggled with the damn door. Gansey sighed into his hands. It seemed he would have to answer that question on his own.. 

\---

Blue shielded her face from the pouring rain as she tried not to slip in the muddy field. With a minute left, Blue took her place beside her mother, Maura. “What happened to you?” Maura whispered. 

In her peripheral, Blue spotted Orla, clearly listening in. “Long story. Got delayed by the rain and other things. I’ll explain later.” 

Her entire family sat huddled together on the old wall. Even the youngest cousins were there, trying to hide their yawns and waiting intently. As midnight struck, she heard one release a quiet gasp. The ghosts were here. 

They weren’t really ghosts. “Spirit” didn’t describe them accurately, either. The figures who crossed the churchyard didn’t have intent or awareness. They weren’t dead or alive, just traces of what is and what is to come. 

Most often, they were the future-dead of Henrietta. This was known because the Sargents and other descendants occasionally spoke with them. Early on, in the first generations after Gwenillian’s arrival, it was the families’ duty to record the names and inform the still-living people. This practice was phased out as the town’s belief in magic dissipated. Now, they rarely spoke with the spirits, just respectfully watched from a distance. 

Sometimes, though, the spirits had names with unfamiliar syllables and lilting accents. Maura had told Blue that these were the spirits from Gwenillian’s kingdom, who were connected to Henrietta by her thread of magic. It wasn’t clear if they were future-dead who lived presently where Glendower once ruled, or if they were from the past, journeying through the circle of time. 

Blue observed the procession, forever mystified by the simultaneous aliveness and deadness of its participants. She always found herself lost in the question of her family’s gift. This was the only time she could see the supernatural- her mother and Orla had some vision for true ghosts and spirits other times of the year, but this ability was something all of them shared. Why? 

Maura nudged Blue out of her thoughts. “Do you see that boy?” She pointed into the distance, obscured by fog. “He’s looking straight at you.” 

Blue suddenly felt the chill of the rain. Through the midst, she could see one of the spirits, just standing there. They never did that. 

“What do I do?” Blue whispered. She could feel her heart pounding. 

“I don’t see him anymore, do you?” Maura was saying, but Blue was already on her feet. He was there, clear as day. She couldn’t stop herself from walking toward him. 

Up close, he didn’t seem to be a malevolent spirit. He was wearing torn clothing, one sleeve bloodied, and a smudgy bruise covered his cheek. Were these the injuries that killed him? The blood looked too real to be from another time. 

“Who are you?” she asked softly. 

The corners of his mouth turned up. She had never seen a spirit smile before. “I am no one of importance,” he said. “I am only a messenger. You, however, are very important.”

“I don’t understand…” 

“I have been neither dead nor alive for a very long time. Time always seems to bring me back here and there.” He seemed both distant and very close. “I simply ask you, to heed the stranger in your care. He will change you, and you will change him.” 

“How do you know about Gansey?” Blue demanded, but the young man was already fading from her sight. 

“Don’t throw it away,” he said, then Blue was on her own. 

She returned slowly to her post on the wall, deep in thought. No doubt, he was different from the other future-dead of the night. Perhaps he was one of Gwenillian’s companions, driven through time to deliver his obscure message. Why was it directed to her? And how did he know about the stranger she had so recently found? The spirit had told her to “heed” him- perhaps this meant Gansey was telling the truth? It wouldn’t be the strangest thing she had ever encountered, but it did seem much more likely that he had amnesia or a bad concussion. 

“What was that all about?” Orla asked eagerly. Maura was also listening.

For some reason, Blue felt like it would be wrong to divulge the spirit’s message. “He was just disoriented,” she lied, already feeling guilty. “I think I look like someone he knew, but I’m not sure.” The future-dead were notoriously bad conversationalists, so any confusion on Blue’s part would be understandable.

“That’s strange,” Maura said, but didn’t say anything further on it. 

The procession had already ended, and the family was packing up. It seemed right to explain the Gansey-situation after lying about the spirit. As they walked back to the cars, Blue said, “The reason I’m late is I had a minor accident. Don’t worry- everything’s okay.”

“But?” Maura said, eyebrows raised.

“But I bumped into one of the St. Mark’s Eve actors. With my car.”

Orla gasped. “What?!” 

“He’s totally fine. I think. Except he believes he’s actually a knight in Glendower’s court.” 

“I don’t think that counts as fine,” Orla said. “Did you just leave him in the road?” 

“No, of course not! He’s waiting in the car, he was talking and alert when I left him, but I’m going to take him to the doctor right now!” 

“You left a man who thinks he’s a knight in your card.” Maura said, incredulous. 

“I’m going to talk to him!” Orla grinned, delighted, and Blue raced after her to the car. 

Gansey was resting his head on the window, but sat up immediately when he noticed the women. “He does look like a knight…” Maura said. Blue thought to herself, that he didn’t look like a knight, but rather a young and weary king. 

Blue unlocked the car and opened his door. “Finally! I’ve been trying to open this for quite some time.” 

“That’s why it was locked,” she said.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he turned his attention to the two other women. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

“Are you really a knight?” Orla asked. This was just the sort of thing she would love- having a conversation with someone deeply confused, knowing she had the upper hand.

“I am. Is that really so surprising?” 

Blue wanted to stop Orla before she could start. “Considering it’s the 21st century, yes.” 

“The 21st century…it can’t be…” Gansey looked mystified. 

“It certainly is, and that’s why we’re going to the doctor. Goodnight Mom, goodnight Orla!” Blue stepped into her car and watched as the churchyard became further and further away.

Gansey was silent, clearly deep in thought. She expected him to ask another question about the century, but instead he said, “Did you see him? Noah? I wanted to talk to him, but I was trapped here.”

Something in her stilled. “Could you see the spirits, Gansey?”

“The spirits? I only saw Noah.” 

“This Noah...what does he look like?” Blue braced herself for the answer. What would it mean if the descriptions matched?

“When I saw him, he was wearing a simple tunic and his cloak was torn and dirty. He had a wound on his right arm- it would be dressed with a bandage. I think he had fair hair...it was hard to tell in the dark.”

The blood and clothing fit, but that wasn’t definitive. “On St. Mark’s Eve, my family can see the spirits of those who will die in the next year. That’s why we come to the churchyard.” Blue didn’t know why she was explaining all this, but it seemed necessary. “They usually just walk across, but one of them was watching me. I spoke with him, and he talked to me about a stranger- you.” Gansey opened his mouth to talk, but she continued. “He didn’t have any bandages, but he had a distinctive bruise on his cheek. Does your Noah have that?”

“I-no. But it was Noah. It must’ve been. Perhaps, if this really is another time, he sustained that injury after I met him. You must believe I’m telling the truth now.”

Blue couldn’t understand it. She believed in magic, but this wasn’t the kind she had learned about and trusted. “I don’t know what to believe. But I don’t think we should go to the doctor.”

“Where are we going, then?” 

Blue had already made her decision. “We’re going to talk to my friends, Adam and Ronan.” It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes- Gansey does respect women. He’s trying.  
> I was thinking about how he would fit into the car with his armor on but I said he was just wearing chainmail at the end of chap 1, so let’s go with that. If you want, feel free to imagine him struggling to get into the car in armor.  
> Also, it’s so unrealistic that the knight in the movie just fucken drives a car. Gansey can’t even figure out how to open a car door and that’s realistic.


	3. The Barns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue takes Gansey to Adam and Ronan to help decide if he has amnesia or is indeed a time travelling knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Gansey pov- I know i’ve been alternating but it didn’t really fit here. more blue pov to come.

Gansey had not realized how tired he was. He awoke to Blue’s voice, soft. “We’re here.” 

It made sense, of course. He had awoken early that morning to prepare for the hunt, a thousand miles and a thousand years ago. The gentle rhythm of the car (what Blue had called the strange wagon) had lulled him to sleep. Rubbing his eyes, Gansey saw a series of structures sprawled out across the rolling hills ahead of them. There was a light in the window of the nearest barn, the largest one. As he stepped out of the car, he thought he spotted a few cows grazing in the dark. It was strange to think that the stars above them, visible in the now clear skies, were the same ones he had left behind. 

“Where are we?” Gansey asked. He knew he had asked Blue where they were going, but he must’ve fallen asleep before absorbing her answer. 

“The Barns,” she answered. “My friends Ronan and Adam live here, with their daughter. They’re married by the way- don’t be weird about it.” 

“Wyrd?” Gansey was confused. 

“Weird,” Blue said shortly. “It’s like strange. I just mean you shouldn’t be rude about it.” 

“What would I be rude about? I know of many men who married men.” 

“Oh. I guess my history is off then,” Blue said. “I would’ve also thought you would be weird about my family not being white, too.” 

“Perhaps history as I lived it was different than how people remembered it. Glendower’s court was the center of the kingdom- people from all over came there to visit or reside.” He thought for a second. “But, I know that my world is not the same as yours. I apologize for my earlier offenses, and anything else I might say.” 

Blue rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I guess.” She started toward the door, and Gansey followed. With the press of some button on the doorframe, a light bell sound rang out. A young man came to the door, his hair and clothes a bit rumpled. A pang of guilt struck him- clearly Blue’s friends had awoken to assist him, though Gansey was still not sure how they were supposed to be helping him. 

The man ushered them inside. He offered a hand to Gansey, introducing himself as Adam. Uncertain quite how to respond to this, Gansey simply clasped with both of his hands. “I’m Gansey. I truly apologize for all this inconvenience, thank you for your hospitality.” 

Another man was sitting on top of the kitchen counter. This had to be Ronan, then. He had dark curly hair and the strangest tunic Gansey had ever seen- it read “Boring, Bird Time” with an illustration of an oversized yellow bird, and it lacked sleeves. He raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, mystery knight guy. Hey, Blue. Can you explain again what mystery knight guy has to do with us?” 

“I know neither of you do much history these days, but Adam studied a lot of classics in college and you oddly know a lot about this stuff, too. I figured you might be able to confirm Gansey’s story. Also, I needed a second opinion on me not being a bad person for not taking him to a hospital” 

Gansey opened his mouth to protest. He had thought Blue was convinced, but apparently she still doubted him. Before he could express his offense, Ronan responded. “You know that vague classical knowledge doesn’t necessarily cover the Welsh Middle Ages, right? But we have Google and good common sense so we can try.” 

Adam snorted. “Since when have you had common sense, Ronan? We’re happy to help, but I thought you might know more about Glendower than us, since you’re sort of related to Gwenillian and all.” 

“You didn’t tell me this,” Gansey said. “You’re really related to Gwenillian? How?”

“You know her?” Blue exchanged a glance with Adam and Ronan, communicating something he couldn’t quite understand. 

“Yes. We weren’t quite friends, but I encountered her rather often, and I was fond of her. What became of her?”

“She and other dissenters were accused of witchcraft and exiled. They came to Henrietta and settled here. My family is descended from this original group- that’s why we can see the spirits.”

Gansey sighed. “I’m not surprised- I always thought something like this would happen. I don’t doubt she was interested in witchcraft, but certainly politics were the true reason anyhow. Do you know anything about Glendower or what happened to the kingdom?” 

Blue shook her head. “We just know about Gwenillian.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “You do sound invested in Glendower, which would be consistent if you truly were his knight... but you haven’t told us anything that you wouldn’t know if you weren’t just a concussed actor. I know there are supernatural things out there- Blue’s family is proof. Time travelling, though, is unlikely.” 

It was deeply frustrating. How he could convince them that this wasn’t a fabrication of his imagination? Gansey could not conceive that this would be the quest Noah had sent him on. He had been sent to this time and place for a reason, to search for something bigger than himself, something more. And here he was, being scrutinized over his honor and credibility. 

“It’s true,” Blue was saying. “The spirit thing was definitely strange, but I haven’t heard anything that proves you’re from Glendower’s court besides some sexism. I want to hear the full story.” 

This approach made sense. “I am telling the truth. I swear by my sword…” Gansey placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. Then, he remembered the peculiar rock Noah had given him, and it seemed like something to swear upon as well. Gansey removed the cord from around his neck. “And by this gifted stone.”

“Cool rock,” said Ronan. “Let’s hear a cool story.” 

Gansey wasn’t sure what “cool” meant, but it probably had no bearing on his tale. “I was born to the noble family of Gansey. My father is one of the king’s advisors. I have a sister, Helen, as well, with a role in court-”

“Okay, we don’t need your whole life story,” Ronan interrupted. 

“No,” Adam said. “Details are good. We need details to confirm this all. Keep going.”

“Like most sons of noblemen, I served as a page until I was fourteen. I learned about skills of combat and the hunt, as well as how to read and write and the rules of court. After that I was a squire for a few years, and then I was knighted by King Glendower.” 

“What was required of you to be knighted?” Adam asked, interested. 

Gansey remembered the day clearly. It was the proudest moment of his life. “I had to learn the expectations of a knight, of course- chivalry and such. Usually, if you prove yourself through your manners and skill in sparring, that is sufficient to receive knighthood at some point. But I received this honor relatively early, for an act of merit. One of King Glendower’s advisors had a young child, perhaps five years old. An enemy of the king stole him in the night, for revenge of some sort. I tracked the man to the outer limits of the kingdom, so the child could be returned safely. For this, I was knighted.”

Blue raised her eyebrows. “What happened to the kidnapper?” 

“I don’t know. I brought him back to the court for the king to judge his punishment. I wasn’t present for his trial.” He didn’t know why Blue was asking, but he figured he would add, “It is unlikely that he was executed. Glendower is a merciful king.” 

“Well that’s good to hear, I guess,” Blue replied. “Oh, and we don’t have kings anymore. Democracy is a thing.” 

Gansey wanted to ask for elaboration on this, but Ronan said, “Sorry Blue, not the time to give Sir Gansey a lesson on modern politics.” He turned to Gansey. “So you had a lot of whimsical adventures with your knight friends, et cetera. Let’s skip to the day when this whole time-travelling situation started.” 

While he had arguably had many whimsical adventures, Gansey did not really have many friends among the other knights. They were his companions, but he could not recall a time of feeling truly comfortable among them. They liked hunting and court gossip and sparring and Gansey- well, Gansey did not really know what he liked. “It was St. Mark’s Eve. As you are aware, this is a night known for the supernatural. It’s tradition to have a hunt for a golden stag, every year. I thought the stag was just a myth, but I found it. I couldn’t kill it, of course.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “You found a magical deer?”

“I don’t know that it was magical, just that it should not be killed for some game. But after I spared the stag, I happened upon an injured young man.” To Blue, he said, “Noah.” 

“The spirit we both saw,” Blue clarified for Adam and Ronan. 

“Yes. I helped him with his injuries and tried to bid him to return to court with me. But he refused and told me I must complete a quest. A search for the heart, he called it. Noah gave me this stone, and then I was in the road where Blue found me.” 

“You do realize this implies Noah was the golden stag, right?” Ronan said.

“What do you mean? I believed at the time he was a lost man, but I see now he may have been a troubled spirit.”

“I don’t know. It sounds like a story my father would’ve told me. You see this mysterious injured guy, right after you spared the magic deer. You help him, he gives you a favor or something. Classic fairytale.”

Blue looked amused. “Doesn’t sound like a fairytale I’ve ever heard.”

Adam was deep in thought. “So I see two possibilities. First one, you have amnesia, and since you woke up dressed as a knight, you assumed that’s who you are. You’re combining generic information you know about the Middle Ages or learned for your role with fairytales for your story. Second one, this all really happened, and you were sent to the future by this spirit. I don’t fully believe either possibility.” 

“Adam believes you,” Ronan said. “But he’s a man of science and refuses to accept time travel. I, for one, don’t care about science. I know you’re not lying, and so does Blue.” 

Adam and Blue looked a bit disgruntled at his exclamation, but Gansey appreciated this support. Maybe they could at last move past this trivial trial and puzzle out the quest at the center of his thoughts.

“So what now?” Blue said, echoing what was on Gansey’s mind. “Let’s just agree to accept magic time travel. If you really have amnesia, I’m sorry for not getting you medical care, but we can worry about that later.” 

“Thank you,” Gansey said. “I don’t know where to start on this quest, I-”

Blue cut him off. “We are not discussing quests at 2 A.M., Gansey. Right now, we need to figure out what to do with you, to be honest.” 

“You can borrow some clothes from us, since you don’t have anything fit for the 21st century,” Adam said, leaving the room. 

“You’ll have to stay with me. My apartment’s small, but I have a couch,” Blue said. 

Gansey hesitated, feeling his face redden. It wouldn’t be proper to share a space with a lady. “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps I could…” He trailed off, hoping he could stay at the Barns without sounding as though he was imposing. 

“You could stay with us, Gansey, but you wouldn’t want to,” Ronan replied with a laugh. “Opal is going through a bratty phase.”

“What’s an opal?”

“Opal’s our daughter. Blue is a very bad influence, and now she’s obsessed with witches. You might wake up to her cursing you in your sleep or something.” 

Gansey wasn’t sure how to respond to this. “Oh.” 

“It’ll be fine with me,” Blue said. “I’m not going to, like, beguile you with my femine charms. Even if you thought I was a prostitute” 

Gansey smiled weakly. “I said I was sorry.” 

Adam had returned with a pile of clothing. Based on Ronan’s wardrobe choices, Gansey was a little nervous. It was also apparent that none of the people he had met in this era carried swords, so he wasn’t sure how he would accomplish this in modern clothing. This was a problem for tomorrow, though. Blue was already saying goodbye to their hosts. 

He thanked them and bid them goodnight as he and Blue walked out into the chilly night. Gansey was certain they would all meet again soon; if Blue trusted these men with supernatural matters, he would need them to succeed with the quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know wyrd is more anglo-saxxon than welsh but i cannot resist the puns.  
>  also im a sucker for post-therapy ronan having hair so we are going with that. I’m jumping on the ronan with weird shirts bandwagon (the slogan here is inspired by hardvardparrish (tumblr) + it has Big Bird on it). tune in for next chapter when i force gansey to wear them!!


	4. The Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Gansey go grocery shopping. relatively mild shenanigans ensue for this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back with another chapter of the fic no one wants me to write. but it's the only one i feel like updating, so here we are.

Blue awoke to the sun streaming through the blinds. Rubbing her tired eyes, she checked her clock. It was already after 10! It was unusual for her to sleep so late, but they hadn’t returned to the apartment until almost 3 A.M. St. Mark’s Eve was always a tiring affair (something about interacting with the future-dead spirits drained her energy), and straightening out Gansey’s story at the Barns had certainly merited a little mental exhaustion. 

After changing out of her costume, which she had slept in, Blue tentatively left her room. She had set up Gansey on the couch and was hoping he was still asleep. There was great potential for trouble for an unsupervised time traveller. To her dismay, Gansey was sitting, very much awake, on the couch, a book in hand. 

“Good morning,” he said, sounding well rested. 

“When did you get up?” 

“Hours ago! I’ve awoken with the sun since I was a child.” As Gansey stood up, Blue saw that he was wearing one of Ronan’s shirts. It read: “Yeehaw, baby!” and there was a picture of a cow wearing a cowboy hat on it. Now that he was wearing short sleeves, his toned arms were visible. Swordfighting was probably good for that sort of thing. 

Electing to ignore Gansey’s nice shoulders, Blue said, “How are you finding modern clothing?”

Gansey instantly looked pained. “Do people truly wear this in public?” 

“Most people wouldn’t. Ronan does.” 

“Thank goodness,” Gansey said, sounding relieved. “I was ready to lose hope in the future.”

“Adam didn’t put any of his clothes in? I don’t believe that they wouldn’t give you anything normal.” 

Gansey held up a plain shirt. “Is this normal? I’m not quite sure what qualifies as such in this era.”

Blue nodded. “That’s fine. What were you reading before I came in?”

“It’s called Silent Spring? Some sort of dark science fiction.” 

With a grimace, Blue replied, “It’s not fiction! It was written a while back- one of the first influential books about environmental science.”

“That’s concerning,” Gansey said. 

“I actually have my students read it, since I teach environmental science. It’s been on the curriculum for a while. I’ve been trying to get the school board to look into books by indigenous authors, too, to add to the curriculum. It’s hard to make any changes when some of the board doesn’t even believe in climate change! They think I’m being too political for public school.” Noting Gansey’s glazed eyes, Blue continued, “But you don’t have to worry about climate change or anything. You’re probably only in this century for a little. Anyway, how can you read English? I thought you were Welsh.”

Gansey looked taken aback. “I didn’t even realize we were speaking English. I suppose Noah’s magic let me understand this language.” 

Blue was still uncertain how much she trusted the strange force that had thrust Gansey into the present. She had been raised with the knowledge that magic was real, but there was no comfort in this supernatural, which she did not understand. Gansey seemed to find certainty in the power and reasoning of Noah. She wondered what sort of world he had lived in to so readily rely on magic. 

She decided not to say any of this aloud. “That’s interesting. I guess you needed it to be equipped for this whole quest business.”

“Speaking of which-” Gansey started.

“-No quest conversation before breakfast,” Blue interrupted. “You didn’t eat yet, right?”

“It would not be proper to use your food without asking,” Gansey said primly. “Also, I couldn’t figure out where it is.” 

Blue laughed. “This is a refrigerator. You use it to keep food cold so it will stay longer.” 

“I was wondering what that box was!” 

She opened the door, which revealed its meager contents- a bag of grapes and a few yogurts. “I wasn’t really prepared for guests, sorry! I have yogurt, if you like that?”

Gansey assured her he would be grateful for anything she served (court manners, she assumed), so she handed him a yogurt and a spoon. “I should probably go shopping if you’re going to be staying here for a while.” 

Gansey immediately perked up. “Can I come to the market with you!?”

Blue thought for a second. “You should stay here. You’ve barely been outside, I don’t think you’re ready for this.” 

“How am I supposed to learn the purpose of my quest if I do not explore outside? I’ve been thinking- I wasn’t just sent to the future. I was sent to future Henrietta. Noah brought me to this time and place for a reason! If Henrietta is truly connected to Glendower’s kingdom, perhaps I am supposed to learn something here about what happens to the kingdom and use this knowledge when I return! I know the king has enemies- if we were conquered by the English, perhaps it could’ve been prevented!” 

“Maybe it is connected to Gwenillian’s exile!” Blue couldn’t help herself from adding to Gansey’s passionate ramble. 

“Yes! That’s what I thought! But I’ll never learn anything if I don’t go outside.” 

Blue sighed. “Fine. You can come with me, but you’re not talking to anyone. Also, change your shirt.” 

Gansey grinned in silent triumph. She returned to her room to give him a moment to change. When Blue came back out, she found Gansey attempting to attach his sword to the belt loops of his borrowed jeans. 

“How does one carry a sword with these pants? There’s no place for my scabbard!” 

“Why do you need a sword?! We’re going to the grocery store!” 

“What if we are attacked by a beast or highwaymen?” 

“I’ve lived in Henrietta all my life, and the most dangerous beast I’ve encountered is a drunk Aglionby student when I worked at a pizzeria. We’ll be fine.” 

Gansey looked between Blue and his sword. “Can I at least leave it in the car?” 

“You know what, whatever! Bring the sword if you want.” Blue was sure it wouldn’t be the only weapon in someone’s car. It was Virginia. 

This time, Gansey was able to open his own car door. He started to open Blue’s door for her, but she stopped him. “No weird chivalry either.” 

“Fine,” he said with a smile. “I will be insufferably rude, if that’s what you want.” 

As they drove, Blue noticed Gansey was captivated by the view outside. This was the first time he had seen the modern world in daylight. 

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to a traffic light. Blue answered him. A second later, he directed her gaze toward a gas station. “What’s this?” This continued for the duration of the drive. Blue didn’t mind. It wasn’t everyday that you got to explain the world to someone who had never seen it before. 

As they pulled into the parking lot, Blue gave Gansey a stern look. “Do not try to sneak your sword in.”

“I’m not! And you don’t have to remind me to not to talk to anyone. I’ve got it. I will be completely normal.” 

Of course, Gansey was quickly mesmerized by the automatic doors of the entrance. “Is this what your market looks like?! Where are all the stalls and shopkeepers?” he said quietly to her.

“It’s all one store,” she said. 

“There’s so much here! Look at all these fruit and vegetables! Oranges- I can’t believe it! And it’s only April!” 

“Yea, we can import a lot of produce from warmer regions. We can get some oranges, if you like them.” Gansey nodded, so she showed him how to get a bag for them. He started filling it. “Not that many- fruit is still expensive now!” 

Blue let Gansey push the shopping cart down the aisles. “What sort of things do you eat?” 

“I just ate whatever I was served,” Gansey answered.

“Well I don’t have servants or a cook. I make my own food, as you know.” 

“Yes, I know,” Gansey said. “Anyway, I don’t even recognize the food here! Don’t worry about buying anything specifically for me. I’ll eat whatever you get, I trust your judgement, of course.” 

Blue didn’t know why she felt touched at that. It ended up being fun, explaining to Gansey all of the products. Shopping had always been stressful for her, but she didn’t feel so worried about money with Gansey. He was completely ignorant about money, so when she made an exclamation about a particularly exorbitant price, he would quickly second her opinion. Plus, he didn’t know the difference between name and store brand. Blue wouldn’t think she would enjoy spending time with someone from a time before gender equality, but it was kind of nice to receive his full attention and appreciation on her thoughts of modern society. She knew it was just because he wanted to learn more, but still. 

“Gansey, no! All children should go to school and learn household skills,” Blue was saying when she saw her student, Allison. She hoped Allison hadn’t spotted them, but the girl was already headed in their direction. Blue wordlessly shooed Gansey into the cereal aisle and put on her best teacher-in-public smile. 

“Hi Ms. Sargent!” Allison said. 

“Hi Allison, so nice to see you! How are you doing?” 

“Good,” she said, clearly distracted. “Who’s the guy? I thought you were a feminist.”

Blue stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Allison, as you know, I cannot express political views. But feminism isn’t about hating men…” 

“I know! I’ve, like, read belle hooks. I was just kidding! Who is he though?!” 

Allison was a good student, but rather nosy. “He’s a family friend who’s staying with me.” 

“I was only curious because he’s eating the cereal out of that box.” 

Blue cursed to herself. This is why she hadn’t wanted Gansey to come with her! “Oh, uh, he’s just testing it. We’re buying it, don’t worry.” She whispered to Allison as if sharing a secret, “There’s not a lot of supermarkets where he’s from.” 

Allison had the courtesy to look a little embarrassed. “Of course, sorry. Uh, good luck! See you Monday.” 

Blue dashed over to where Gansey had his hand in a box of cereal. “Gansey. What are you doing?”

He took a second to swallow his mouthful of cereal. “I’m testing Captain Crunch’s wares. A little sweet for my taste, but certainly unique.” 

“Now I have to pay for that! You can’t just taste things that are in packages.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.” 

Blue sighed. “It’s fine. I think it’s time to head out, anyway. We should have enough food for the week.” 

Gansey’s eyes met hers. “You don’t think I’ll be here longer than that?” 

It almost sounded like he didn’t want to go back. But that couldn’t be- Gansey was so set on his quest and his role as a knight. “No clue. It depends on how quickly we figure out this whole thing.”

“Yes, that makes sense. I wonder if I will return to the moment I left, or a week later in my time.” 

“That’s an interesting question. My mom always said time is a circle.”

“Maybe it will make more sense when I complete the quest.” Gansey sounded far away. Blue wondered what it was like to have a purpose like that. She loved teaching, she really did, and she had thought that she felt content here. But now that she knew more about the magic of her predecessors, Blue imagined that there was something more. 

“Actually, if we’re looking into ties between Glendower and Henrietta, my family might be a good place to start.”

“I thought you said that you didn’t know anything more about Glendower or Gwenillian,” Gansey said, with almost an accusatory note in his tone. 

“I don’t! Or at least I don’t think I do. My family might. And, we’ve lived at 300 Fox Way for generations. We’ve never found anything in the house, but maybe you’ll know what to look for.”

Gansey considered it. “That would make sense.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Your family… would you say that they’re witches?” 

Blue let herself roll her eyes this time. “No, Gansey. We aren’t witches.”

“You can see spirits though. And you do rituals.” 

“The only ritual I do is what you saw yesterday. If my cousin Orla wants to pretend to be psychic, that’s not on me.” 

Gansey laughed. “Orla’s the one who talked to me last night, right? She was wearing that orange, uh, small shirt.” 

Of course he would remember what Orla was wearing. “Yep, that’s her. My mom and my aunts Calla and Persephone know a bit about this stuff, too. They do tarot readings sometimes. But we’re not witches.”

“It depends how you define a witch,” Gansey said with a small smile.

“I suppose you’re right,” Blue agreed. 

She paid for the groceries. It was a little more costly than she was comfortable with, but she had not shopped for more than herself in some time. As they left the store, Blue noticed a familiar car in the parking lot. It was Henry Cheng’s, a coworker of hers. He was the chair of the science department (when she had asked how he had gotten the position only a few years after working at the school, Henry had told her “Politics, baby!”). They were friends, but it was lucky she and Gansey hadn’t run into him. He wouldn’t have accepted her excuse for Gansey as easily as Allison had. Also, Henry would’ve definitely spoken to Gansey, which would’ve violated the rule she had given him. They had avoided a small disaster. 

Gansey didn’t offer to open her door this time. Blue almost felt proud. 

Thankfully, no one had seen the medieval sword in the car. Or, they had seen and not cared. Either way, Blue was glad she didn’t have to deal with the repercussions. Gansey ran his fingers over it reverently, evidently also happy that it had not been stolen.

“Why do you care about that sword so much?” Blue asked, genuinely curious. Aside from a switchblade gifted by Maura’s boyfriend, she had never understood people’s interest in weapons. 

“I received it when I was first knighted,” Gansey explained. “I had my own before- a family heirloom. But King Glendower gifted me this one, as a sign of gratitude for rescuing the advisor’s child. Very few new knights receive that honor.” 

It was kind of obvious that Gansey’s family was wealthy. He had said they were nobility last night, but having swords as family heirlooms reminded her of this. 

“So this is like your Excalibur then?” Blue wondered if he would understand the reference.

Gansey’s eyes brightened. “As far as I know, it’s not magic and Glendower didn’t retrieve it from a lake, but sure. It’s my Excalibur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -gansey's arms imply that swordfighting has replaced crew as the chad sport  
> -gansey still has wonder...just about more commonplace things :)  
> -hopefully we will have henry and gansey interact later!  
> -according to wikipedia, gansey would know about the king arthur stories! so now i get to have fun making references to them


	5. The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gansey and Blue visit 300 Fox Way, where they hope to learn more about his quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't find the opportunity to clarify in the chapter but- blue's family isn't psychic, but they all can see the st. marks eve spirits. some of the fox way ladies run a ~witchy~ business but they also do more regular work too.
> 
> also please excuse my fairytale invention skills .

In some ways, 300 Fox Way was surprising. Gansey knew he hadn’t seen much of this era yet, but he could deduce that it was an unusual place from the outside. The paint was mismatched and the roof seemed to change angles multiple times. The cheery colors of the sign were faded, but he could read “Tarot and Tea” scrawled across it in a looping font. But it was not surprising that Blue had come from a place like this, a fairytale cottage with a strange sort of charm. 

Blue led Gansey to the front door and knocked. A few moments later, when no one answered, she turned the knob. Gansey raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh, don’t get yourself worried about manners,” she said. “People are always coming and going here, and it’s really my home anyway.” He shrugged in response. Gansey already knew what Blue thought of his efforts at chivalry. 

The inside of Blue’s house was what he expected. The walls were covered in realistic portraits of the house’s residents. Some of the figures looked familiar from the churchyard. He recognized a much younger Blue in one of them, dangling from the branches of an enormous tree. The scent of herbs floated through the halls, reminding Gansey of an apothecary. They passed three teenagers in an argument, an elderly lady knitting what appeared to be extraordinarily large socks, and a cat before reaching Blue’s destination. 

Three women were seated at the small round table in the kitchen. “Hey,” Blue said, interrupting their conversation. 

“Blue! I didn’t hear you come in,” one of the women said. She had the same dark curly hair as Blue, but it was tied in a neat bun, and she was smiling warmly. 

“Yea, it’s no wonder- how could anyone hear over the girls’ screaming?”

The woman with darker skin and sharp eyes said, “Tell me about it. This is the third fight today! I can’t get any work done!” 

Gansey hung back, behind Blue. There was a sort of magnetism between the four women, something he did not want to - or could not- break. 

“But Calla,” the third woman, who had white hair like spun sugar, said, “you haven’t done any work today.” 

Calla started a sharp retort, but Blue cleared her throat. “I came because I thought you could help me and Gansey. Gansey, meet Calla and Persephone, my aunts. You’ve already met my mom, Maura. Everyone, meet Gansey.”

Gansey waved, feeling a bit foolish. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. You have a lovely home.” 

Calla snorted. He wasn’t sure if he had said the wrong thing, or if that was just Calla. “So what are we helping you and your boyfriend with?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Blue said. Gansey hoped that had a different meaning than friend, because he had thought they were at least acquaintances. “He’s a knight from Glendower’s court that I hit with my car.” 

There was a moment of silence, broken by Persephone. “I didn’t know knights wore khakis and boat shoes.”

“I borrowed clothing from Blue’s friends, but I do have a sword.” Gansey said. 

“He was dressed like a knight last night,” Maura offered. “But I thought we agreed that he was a confused actor.” 

“That’s what I thought too, but we sat down with Adam and Ronan and decided his story was true. I believe everything he says.” Blue’s voice was certain, so different from her doubt last night. For whatever reason, Gansey felt his heart quicken. 

“I was sent here with a quest- some sort of search. I hoped that as the descendants of Gwenllian’s party, you might be able to help.” 

Maura looked up from her tea. “I would’ve thought Blue told you. We don’t know more than anyone else.” 

“Yea, that’s what I thought at first,” Blue explained, “But I don’t think that’s really true. You all have said things I’ve never heard anywhere else- about time and life and the past. And there’s the fact that none of you are blown away by the possibility of a time travelling knight.” 

“For my part, I’m trusting your judgement on that, Blue. I would need a bit more evidence,” Maura was saying, but Gansey’s mind was elsewhere. He had thought that he might be able to find something here, that perusing the rooms or grounds of 300 Fox Way would provide a clue or illuminate a clear path. But now he knew that it wasn’t a dusty tome in the attic or an ancient map that he needed to locate here. The thing he needed here was in the people. 

“Are there some stories unique to your family? Ones that other people don’t tell?” Gansey asked thoughtfully. 

Persephone smiled. He had stumbled across the right question. “We do not know the true way or reason Gwenllian and the others came here. But we do have our own stories. Every story has some truth to it. Even those completely fabricated have a true reason for being told.” 

Something about those words... Gansey suddenly remembered a slip of a refrain Gwenllian had recited to him once. There were occasions she spoke of politics and war with deadly clarity, but other times he could understand why members of the court thought she was mad. He said it aloud now. “Blue lily lily blue, for ev’ry story told, ten are true.” It hadn’t rhymed in Welsh, but now it sounded like a proper bit of poetry. Or an incantation. 

Persephone hummed in agreement. In the low light of the kitchen, with her cloud of white hair and willowy frame, she looked like she could have been Gwenllian’s ghost. Or perhaps Gwenllian looked like Persephone’s shadow, the woman who would be a princess in another story. “We could tell you a tale, then,” she said. “But I think we all ought to have a cup of tea first.” 

Blue poured him a cup of tea that smelled precisely of dirt, then said, “How come I don’t know this story?” 

“You do,” Maura said. “It’s passed from mother to child. Even now, you’ve told it to your little cousins.” 

Blue wrinkled her brow. Gansey had the strangest urge to press his thumb into the divot and smooth it. He quickly looked away from her and drank a sip of his tea. It tasted worse than it smelled, but he schooled his face into a pleasant expression and took another sip. 

“That story? I could tell it in my sleep! But it’s just a fairytale- it’s not true.”

“It’s been in our family for generations,” Maura responded. “Like Persephone said, there must be a reason why we’ve told it for so many years.”

“Or perhaps,” Gansey said, thinking aloud, “It’s the story of the original exiles and changed over time as it was told.”

Calla smiled. It was a sharp thing. “Exactly.” 

“I guess I’ll tell it then,” Blue said, disbelief still evident in her voice. “It starts as any tale does. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess.” Her voice steadied. Clearly she had told the story many times. “She was knowledgeable in the ways of music and etiquette and art, but she wanted more than that. Although many considered it improper, the princess decided to train alongside her brother, the crown prince, to learn about diplomacy, trade, and law. Soon, she outpaced her brother, but of course, as a woman, she could never rule. Still, she was worried, for there was a war in her land. She feared that the knowledge she held would not be enough when the time came, so the princess sought the company of a witch. The people of the kingdom feared magic, so the search for a witch was not easy. However, when she finally found a witch, the witch refused to teach the princess magic. The princess spent hours trying to convince the witch to help her, but the witch was stubborn. In those hours, though, the witch realized the princess was of pure heart and spirit. The witch knew of things brewing in the kingdom and felt the princess was at least fit of this knowledge. The princess hurried back to the castle, where she tried to tell her father, the king, of this conspiracy. He ignored her, for she had claimed his favorite bard was working for the enemy.”

“Advisor,” Calla interrupted. “It was the king’s advisor. Why would the king trust a bard?”

“Mom told me he was a poet!” 

“I didn’t say that,” Maura protested. “I said he was an advisor. I never mentioned poetry!”

“I would not trust a bard,” Persephone said thoughtfully, “but we have already established the king was foolish. Also, I told Blue he was a poet.” 

Blue threw her hands up. “It’s not important!” 

“It is important- I need to know if it’s an evil bard or advisor to warn Glendower against!” Gansey said. 

“How are you connecting this to Glendower?! The story doesn’t align with what you’ve told me about court at all!” 

“Well you all said the story was true so I’m trying to make sense of it. If you combine the witch and princess character that could be Gwenllian…” 

Blue sighed. “Let me finish the story. You haven’t heard it all yet. So the bard slash advisor heard of the princess’ accusations. He was furious, for he really was a spy for the enemy. The princess had crossed the wrong man, as the bard was of a deadly stock. He gathered information on the princess, hoping to discredit her. But he found something better- there was a talisman in her room, something the witch had gifted her. This was clear evidence that the princess was practicing witchcraft, a crime punishable by death. He could get rid of the suspicious princess for good. The bard told the king what he had discovered. Although the king was reluctant, the law was clear: the princess had to be killed. On the day of the execution, the witch was among the crowds. She had heard the king’s judgement and come to the court, feeling guilty and hoping to change the king’s mind. But she was too late- the princess was seconds away from her death. At the last moment, the witch used her powers to take the princess’s place. And so, the witch died but the princess, who found herself in the crowd where the witch had stood, would live on.” 

Blue seemed to be at the close of the story, so Gansey said, “That is a very dark story to tell to children.” 

Blue shrugged. “It’s happy! The princess made a powerful female friendship and lived another day to fight for her kingdom.” 

“I guess. I still don’t see how this could connect to my quest unless the princess and witch are Gwenllian.” 

“It’s not a story about your quest,” Maura said. “It’s a story about our family.” At Gansey’s confusion, she clarified, “The second part is about our family. It’s a collection of stories, really. The first part is the background of the other parts. Blue, before you continue, can I refill your tea?”

Blue shook her head. “Please stop testing your teas on us. Gansey, you don’t need to drink that.” Gansey sighed in relief and put his mug down. “The princess lived, but she could not return to her place in the castle, for she was still being hunted for witchcraft. She would have to find another way to save her kingdom from its enemies. Luckily, the witch had granted her a special power before she died. The princess could see and talk to ghosts.” Blue paused. “The other stories are mostly about the princess’ adventures and there’s not really a timeline because some of them conflict. Which one should I tell?”

Persephone responded, “Whichever you think.” 

“Okay, I’ll tell my favorite then. The princess and her allies- we meet them in other stories, Gansey- fought hard for the kingdom, but no one would heed her warnings of the bard. And one day, just as she had feared, the bard killed the king. With his death, the kingdom’s enemies overtook the palace. It fell quickly. But before the king’s burial, his body disappeared, for the princess stole it from the castle. She had spoken to her father’s ghost, who told her that he feared what the invaders would do to his body. The princess was still very angry with the king, who had nearly killed her and had executed the witch, but he begged his daughter to help move his body to a sacred location. This task was very important, but he could not tell her why. The princess could not accomplish it on her own and enlisted her allies. For protection along the way, she had the spirits of the king’s knights, who would defend the band of travelers and their precious cargo from the kingdom’s new rulers. The journey was long, and as they neared the end, only the princess and three of her friends remained. The ghost knights had eventually disappeared, as they were too far from their bodies. Even the ghost of the king was greatly weakened, although his body traveled with them. Eventually, they could go on no longer and stopped at a clearing. There, before the king’s ghost dissipated, he used the last of his strength to explain. One day, he would awaken and restore his kingdom. But before then, someone would have to wake him and in exchange, he would grant a favor. The princess hoped that this was the sacred place he sought but she did not know, for his ghost had left. At that site, the princess built a church, thinking that she could at least make the place holy by her own hand. She lived out the rest of her life there with the three other travelers, but her father’s ghost never returned to her.” 

“That’s the end?” Gansey asked. 

“Yea. There’s other storylines where the princess saves the kingdom or becomes queen, but I like this one best.”

“The church in the story… is that the churchyard? The princess could see spirits, like your family can.” 

Maura nodded. “That’s the connection we make, too. It doesn’t exactly align with what we know, historically, of course. Like Blue said earlier, the kingdom and princess don’t fit with Gwenllian or the exiles.”

“But they don’t have to align, because there’s truth even in fabrications…” Gansey said slowly. Pieces were coming together in his mind, but there still was not enough to make a coherent picture. “Would you say the churchyard is important to the story?” 

Calla wrinkled her nose. “I mean, it’s not the most important part, but the location is one way we link it to our family.” 

“Have you ever gone there outside of St. Mark’s Eve?” 

“There’s not really a reason,” Maura said. “We only see the spirits there at midnight once a year.” 

Blue and Gansey exchanged a look. His said can you see where I’m going with this? and hers said absolutely. Or at least he hoped she understood what he meant. 

Before Blue could respond aloud, a little girl ran into her. She had messy blond hair and was wearing an apron covered in paint. The paint was also on her face and hands. She held up a decorated clay pot. “Blue! Look what I made!” 

“I love it Opal!” To Gansey, she said, “This is Adam and Ronan’s daughter. She hangs out with my little cousins here sometimes.” 

A young woman led a gaggle of girls down to where they were standing. He remembered her as Orla, but she looked far less happy than when he had seen her last. She was also covered in paint, which he assumed was related to her exhaustion. “Hey Blue. Hey knight boy.” Orla waved half heartedly. 

“You’re a knight?” Opal cried.   
“I am indeed.” 

“And you have a sword!” She pointed to Gansey’s sword, which he had left leaning against the kitchen table. He quickly picked it up, removing it from her reach. “That’s so cool. Can girls be knights, too?”

At the same time he said “No,” Blue loudly said “Yes!” She glared at him. 

“Whatever,” Opal said. “I’d rather be a witch.” She ran off in the other direction, pretending to cast spells, and the other girls followed her. Orla trailed behind them. 

“Well, I think me and Gansey should be off,” Blue said. “ I don’t want to get stuck babysitting today!” 

Gansey was grateful that she had excused them. He didn’t want to be rude, but he felt they had learned what they needed. He didn’t know why Blue hadn’t told the women where they were going next, but it seemed like the right decision.

“Thank you for helping! And thank you for the tea!” he said as they walked out. 

“Never thank them for the tea,” Blue said gravely. 

Once they were in the car, Gansey said, “Are we going to the churchyard?”

Blue smiled. “Yup. But it’s going to be dark soon, so we shouldn’t be there for too long. We can always come back another time if we don’t find anything.” 

Gansey was glad she hadn’t suggested delaying the churchyard for another day. Now that he had some sense of direction, the quest had taken ahold of him. There would be no waiting now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of my inspirations for this au was the "can girls be knights?" scene :)


	6. The Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Gansey search the churchyard for clues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a little short because it originally was the end of chapter 5, but I felt it should be its own part.

In the daylight, the churchyard looked mundane, a stretch of overgrown grasses speckled by moss-covered stone structures. Although Blue had been there many times, she had only ever seen the yard at midnight. It was nearly impossible to imagine it full of spirits, as it had been last night. 

Gansey stepped out of the car and appeared to scan the area. Then, he reached into the back seat. He returned to her side, carrying his sword. 

“Do you really need that?” Blue asked. 

“Yes!” Gansey said, grasping the hilt. “If we’re dealing with magic, who knows what dangers we’ll encounter?” 

Blue sighed. “I feel like a shovel might be more useful, if we’re digging up your king.”

Gansey perked up. “You really think he’s here?” 

“Why else would we be searching the churchyard?” It seemed like the reasonable conclusion from the story. Also, she had thought they were on the same page, from their silent exchange at 300 Fox Way. 

“I don’t know,” he said, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “If the story isn’t literally true, it could just be a metaphor. Or a clue. It would be too easy to just find Glendower here.” 

“What do you think we’ll find here, then?” Blue asked, confused. 

“I’m not certain. But I know that my quest cannot be so straightforward. It must take more than a day to solve.” Blue could hear the uncertainty in his words. The task he had been given by Noah was vague, but Gansey would know what a quest should look like. And, she once again was drawn to his concern over the time frame. If their places were reversed, and Blue was the one removed from her home by a thousand years, she would want to return immediately (well, perhaps if she was from the Middle Ages she would want to stay in the more egalitarian time). Gansey sounded as though he would be reluctant to travel back so soon. 

Blue and Gansey made their way through the yard in comfortable silence. She was grateful to be wearing pants, for the grasses were high and insects buzzed around them. At one point, Gansey swatted away an enormous mosquito with his sword. Maybe it was good for something. The ground was still wet from the rains yesterday and the sunset was approaching, giving the air a chill. Blue was wearing the rain jacket she had in the car, but Gansey only had his T-shirt. He must’ve been cold, but he didn’t say anything. 

“What would you be doing if you were home?” Blue asked, breaking the silence. 

Gansey turned to look at her. “I would probably be preparing for dinner. I would finish up with my duties for the day and put away my gear. I would eat with my fellow knights, as always.” 

“You must miss your friends,” Blue said. “If you are usually always with them.”

“I suppose,” was all Gansey replied. “What would you be doing now, if you were not traipsing through an overgrown field with a knight?”

“Usually I prepare my lessons on the weekends. Sometimes I visit Adam and Ronan, or babysit Opal and my cousins. I would probably eat dinner with my friends or cook for myself in my apartment.” 

“It must be lonely, living alone,” Gansey said. “Do you miss living with your family?”

“Sometimes. You saw how it is- there’s always people coming and going. I needed to move out and be my own person, but yes. It’s strange being alone.” Blue had lived at 300 Fox Way for a few years after finishing college. It felt different than the place she had grown up in, and she had been angry that college forced her to look at her home with another’s eyes. She had to leave in order to fall in love with 300 Fox Way again. Now, Blue was grateful to have her own space, but her many visits back reminded her what she was missing. 

“I was never really alone,” Gansey said as he pushed aside the branch of a thorny bush. “Aside from a few solo assignments, I’ve always been surrounded by people.” 

“It’s nice, once in a while, when it’s quiet,” Blue responded. 

“Are you telling me to stop talking?” Gansey said playfully. Just then, Blue stepped forward and Gansey put out an arm to stop her. “Look, under your feet,” he said softly. There was a dip in the even ground of the field. He had kept her from tripping, but she didn’t see anything else there. Gansey crouched to his knees, and Blue did the same. “The grass is a bit greener here. And,” he said, lightly knocking on the ground, “It’s hollow. Something is buried here.” 

Now, Blue could see what Gansey observed. “Should we dig it out?” It seemed wrong to disrupt the peace of the churchyard, but this was what they had come here for, after all.

“Yes, but we have to be careful.” He swung the sword like a scythe, leveling the path of grass in the area. “I feel bad destroying anything here,” he said, echoing Blue’s sentiments. “But I don’t know how else to get it out.” 

Blue hummed in agreement. “The grass will grow back, and we can refill it with soil.” She brushed the fallen grasses away and started digging slowly with her hands. Gansey stood back for a second, then joined her. Their fingernails were filled with dirt, and Gansey’s borrowed clothing was coated in it. Blue could imagine Adam’s voice. Careless, he would say. 

At last, they pushed away the last layers of dirt. White bones stood in stark contrast to the brown earth. They had uncovered a tomb. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Gansey said, after a moment of silence. “We thought we might find a body.” 

“Do you think….is it Glendower?” But she had already noticed where Gansey’s attention was drawn. The cheekbone of the skull was caved in. 

Gansey’s fingers traced the injury from a few inches above the skeleton. “Noah,” he said finally. 

Blue’s gingerly placed her hand into the grave, where her eye had been caught by glinting metal. “Gansey, is that your sword?” The engravings and size seemed exactly the same as the one Gansey had laid next to them. Yet, the sword that Noah had been buried with was dented and tarnished. It was Gansey’s sword with a thousand years of wear. 

“I don’t understand,” Gansey murmured. “Why does he have my sword? How?” 

Blue wondered what her mother would say. She had decided not to tell the women that she was going to the churchyard. It just hadn’t felt right to do so; she had felt the same need for privacy as she had about seeing Noah’s ghost. Surely her mother and aunts would have some useful wisdom for this situation, though. “He must’ve been one of the travelers who carried Glendower here, if we’re following that story. They would’ve left at some point after your present. It’s like I said before- time is circular.” 

Gansey studied the ancient blade again. “Noah is buried in the same place that he brought me. He wants me to find Glendower and awaken him! That must be the quest!” 

“But Glendower isn’t buried here, even though the story implied he was. I think it’s like you said earlier- some sort of metaphor. I don’t see how finding Glendower’s body- if it really is around Henrietta- would help. I think Noah brought you here as a warning, so you could learn about the past and change it. If your mission even is to save Glendower, that is.” 

Gansey deflated. “I suppose that makes sense. We don’t even know that the king in the story is Glendower. Noah’s body must be some sort of clue, though.” Blue was surprised that Gansey had let go of his theory so quickly. Hopefully, he agreed with her that his next steps lay elsewhere. It made sense that his ultimate quest would be about saving his kingdom, but Blue wasn’t completely convinced. Maybe it was what Noah had said to her in the churchyard- he hadn’t discussed anything about changing the past, but rather about her and Gansey. 

Blue realized that the sun had nearly set. “It’s getting dark. We probably should cover the grave and leave.” 

“Before we go, I would like to take a few notes, so we can look back on them for insight later. Do you have paper?” 

Blue took out her phone. “Even better. I can take some pictures.” 

Gansey watched Blue take pictures from several angles. “May I?” Blue showed him how to use the camera. He took several of the sword, then more of the burial and the surrounding area. It was funny- Blue could almost imagine him as a normal young man who grew up in this time, suavely multitasking on his phone. 

Once Gansey was satisfied, they gently filled in the ditch. Blue spotted seeds at the top of a stalk of grass and spread them over the area. She placed a stone in front of the newly covered grave as a marker. As they headed back to the car, Blue said, almost to herself, “I wonder what he was like. When he was alive.” 

“He was a hero, I think. Or he still is, depending on how you look at it.” Gansey looked back at the site of his body. “I wonder if I would’ve known him. If I will know him, at some point in my future.” 

It was strange. Gansey’s future would not be the same as hers. “If his king, the king in the story, wasn’t actually Glendower, do you think he could have lived before your time?” 

“I don’t know,” Gansey said earnestly. “I’ve always thought of time as linear. I never realized it could be this complex.” 

“Well,” Blue said, smiling, “I knew it was complex, but I never imagined I would meet a guy from the Middle Ages.” 

Blue drove him back to her apartment. They were both dirty and tired, but there was something right about the pair of them, together. Blue felt that something as she showed Gansey how to make dinner, and they cooked side-by-side. She felt that something as he insisted on making her tea after dinner. She felt that something as she recommended another book for Gansey, and then while they sat together and read until her eyelids became heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluesey for the soul :) or the spirit ... 
> 
> also i realize that all of these chapters have taken place over only one day, and im personally not a fan of characters falling in love so fast + the ending (if u know the movie) needs to make sense so there will probably be some time skips in the future. also this is supposed to be a romcom not a mystery so expect more scenes w them just vibing and hijinks of gansey learning about the future


End file.
